Logan knew Marie was in the shower before he walked back into the bedroom, the sound of spraying water easily identifiable through the wall of the hallway. Stepping inside, he noticed she had changed the sheets and made the bed during the short time that he was gone. Logan grinned wolfishly.

What a complete waste of time.

Putting down the tray on the soon to be re-messed bed, he pulled off his jeans and headed into the bathroom. Her back was to the door, hair falling to her waist, slathered in what he could tell was hair conditioner, the smell of peaches permeating through the steamed up room. She was running a well sudded bath sponge down her uplifted arm, skimming across the top of her breasts to her flat stomach before bending down to apply the same care to her legs. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. She spun around, startled, when Logan swung open the glass door, growling in appreciation as his eyes raked over her wet, glistening skin.

“Logan, you scared…,” but her words were lost as he crashed his mouth down on hers, the hot water quickly soaking him through, plastering his hair across his face. Laughing softly against his lips, Marie climbed up on him, wrapping her legs around his waist as she took him, hardened and ready, into her hand. She slipped him into her and he hissed, from shock, but mostly in pleasure from the feel of her sheathing so tight and hot around him.

“Fuck me, Logan,” she whispered in his ear, breaking from his kiss and biting his earlobe.

Pushing her up against the cool marble wall, he began to piston into her. She bit along his throat, gripping his shoulders, panting, “So good…so good,” as she pushed his hair away from his face, relishing in the sight of him, knowing he was, without a doubt, the sexiest man ever created.

He effortlessly held her in place, his hands cupping her as he buried himself into her, harder, faster, powerfully. He was so big and she felt so small, her golden skin a sharp contrast to his hair darkened body and like the many, many times in the hours previous, Logan knew exactly when she was close to the edge, knew to twist his hips just so when she began to tremble and breathe in that certain way. He whispered her name soothingly as she cried out his name, pleasure flooding through her as overwhelmingly as before, encouraging him to join her. With a drawn out groan, she felt him shudder, his forehead resting on her shoulder as he crushed her tight against him, his muscles rippling under her hands, succumbing to his own incredible release.

“I love you darlin’. So much,” he told her roughly, licking the spot on her neck just below her ear before kissing her, his mouth tasting of cigar and coffee. She nodded, holding him tight, swirling her tongue around his as he deepened the kiss.

Breathing heavily, she stood up in one graceful movement and reached for the soapy sponge she had dropped, giving him a little smile. She stepped around him and ran it along his back and arms, following the trail of soap with her free hand, enjoying the feel of the heavily corded muscle under it. He reached behind and tried catch her with his hands, but she slapped them away.

“Be good and hold still,” she instructed him, smiling.

She ran the soap over the powerful shape of his shoulders and back, the dips and ripples of muscle bunching at her touch. She slid the sponge across his slim waist and lean hips, taking a particularly long time across his backside, making him look over his shoulder with a smirk on his face. Ignoring it, she bent down to wash the back of his long legs, hands running along the front of his thighs as she stood back up, feeling him tense as she lightly ran the sponge between them. She cradled him within her palms before raking the dark curls at its base with her nails, stroking once before releasing him, pressing her slick body against his as she stepped back around to face him.

The sight of his burning eyes trapped her own. My god, but he is absolutely beautiful, she thought, lost in their depths.

Squeezing the sponge between her fingers, she continued to wash him, across his throat and chest, pinching his nipples before sliding the sponge across his stomach and ribcage, going by feel alone, having put to memory every inch of his perfect body as she kept her eyes on his. Fascinated, she watched as his eyes darkened with desire.

He caught her hand and took the sponge away, rolling it deliberately between his fingers, making her shiver in anticipation. Even slower than her, he ran it over her body, over her throat, across her shoulders and arms, along her calves and thighs and lingeringly on her breasts, sending jolts of electricity through her as the rough mesh grazed over their sensitive tips.

Pouring shampoo into her hand, Marie began to wash his hair, enjoying both the feel of the silky strands and the feel of his hands running over her body, a deep satisfaction settling through her when he closed his eyes and sighed, almost purring as her fingers massaged his scalp. When he slipped his fingers between her legs, she gave out a startled gasp, fisting her hands in his hair to bring his mouth down to hers as her body instantly ignited from his gentle probing. Soon she was shaking in his arms, ardently telling him how good he made her feel, how desperately she needed his touch, how much she loved him, before another powerful orgasm rocked her, stealing her breath away.

“I know, darlin',” he told her, putting a leg between hers and lifting her with it to catch a wet, beaded nipple into his mouth. “I know.”

He positioned her under the stream of water and rinsed the conditioner out of her hair, and once done stood under the water himself, shaking out the shampoo in his hair as Marie held him close, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart with her arms wrapped about his waist. He ran his hands down her hair, squeezing out the excess water straight through to its ends before returning her hug tightly. His heart thudded hard as the hot water continued to pour over the two of them, and he closed his eyes to better hear its companion, his love for her rushing through his veins.

He stepped out of the shower first, wrapping a towel around her tenderly and wrapping another around his waist. He took the towel that she had reached for to dry her hair himself, giving in to the territorial feral who instinctually wanted to care for its mate, and understanding, she stood with her back to him, lifting her head with a pleased smile on her face.

Catching sight of them in the large mirror, Marie dropped the towel from around her body to the floor. She took his hands and brought them to her breasts, squeezing her fingers over his, keeping her eyes on their reflection. She rested her head against his shoulder and raised her arms, curling her fingers into his wet hair, rubbing herself against him, hard and thick against the small of her back. He licked her throat as he fondled her breasts, brushing his thumbs lightly over top her nipples before sliding his hands down her stomach and she watched through the mirror, loving how his body shadowed hers, his broad shoulders and arms giant behind her.

Agonizingly slow, he reached lower and lower, until he finally dipped into her, his deft fingers sliding across her delicate folds before bending her over sharply, eyes snapping to catch hers in the mirror with a wicked glint, letting her know he was aware of her voyeuristic gaze.

He caressed her back, thumbs gliding along the indent of her spine, palms fanning out across her shoulder blades before running down her arms and placing her hands against the marble countertop for stability. He caressed her backside and spread her legs apart before grabbing her hips, bending his knees so he could push himself into her, and he did, so slowly that that she closed her eyes, feeling herself stretch as he filled her.

With a squeal, her eyes shot open in shock, feeling the sting of his palm spanking her.

Logan flashed a devilish grin as he admonished, “I want you looking, Marie. You started watchin’, so watch.” He plunged back into her, and pulled out more slowly than before, looking at her through the reflection of the mirror, a low growl emanating from his throat. Marie clenched her jaw, maintaining eye contact with him and began to push against him but he spanked her again, making her gasp from the surprisingly painful sting.

“Behave darlin’. I’m doing the drivin’, not you.”

She struggled to not move against him, frustrated by his measured tempo and as much as he wanted to dominate her by forcing her to remain still, the sight of her bent over, helpless, made the Wolverine escape his control. Snarling, he began to slam viciously into her, grinding deep inside, his fingers digging into her hips to hold her in place, creating bruises that appeared and disappeared on them. She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out as he rammed himself powerfully and completely into her, and when he released his iron hold on her hips, she immediately pushed back against him, tilting her pelvis and dropping her torso lower, taking him even deeper inside her.

“Oh god, Logan,” she cried out, twisting under him, her voice almost begging as it rose. “Please,” she gasped. “I can’t take it.”

He caught her before she collapsed to the floor, wrapping an arm around her waist and another across her shoulders, lifting her up against his chest safely as he continued to thrust upwards into her, his body shuddering powerfully with hers, both experiencing their orgasm together. Holding her tight, he pressed his mouth into the hollow of her neck, telling her roughly, “You’re driving me crazy, Marie.”

Completely weakened and dependant on his hold of her, she laughed softly, struggling to catch her breath. “Thank goodness Ah heal Logan, or Ah wouldn’t be able to survive your lovin’.”

He turned her around and lifted her up into his arms, arching an eyebrow at her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “More like the other way around, darlin’,” he argued, making her blush and he laughed, delighted at the pink flush that spread itself across her whole body when she buried her head into his shoulder, embarrassed.

Logan carried her out into the bedroom and kept her on his lap as he sat them both down onto the bed. “Poor Nanna’s breakfast has gone cold by now,” he lamented with a small frown, removing the lids from the tray of food he had brought upstairs earlier.

Pouring them both some orange juice, Marie grinned and shrugged. “Ah’m starving Logan, so you better eat what you can or Ah’ll eat it all myself, warm or not. You weren’t kidding about side effects of healing factors.”

They fed each other, Logan snatching up most of the bacon before she could but sharing anyway when she pouted prettily. Afterwards, he retrieved a brush from the vanity table and began to work out the tangles in her hair, smiling contentedly when she reached for his thigh instead of a pillow to lay her head on before falling asleep again, purring.
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